


Citius, Altius, Fortius

by Kablob, mylordshesacactus



Category: RWBY
Genre: (And Also Crosshares), (And Also Some Nebula/Dew), (And Some Implied One-Sided Emerald/Cinder), A Shocking Lack Of Sex For A Fic Allegedly About Casual Sex, Canon-Compliant, Casual Sex, Drinking, F/F, Gen, House Party, Pre-Relationship Canon Ships, Slice of Life, Vignettes, Vytal Festival (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: The Vytal Festival! A time of unity and peace, a celebration of the things that bring the world of Remnant together!Also, to the competitors behind the scenes, a great way to get laid with no strings attached.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 118





	Citius, Altius, Fortius

This was stupid.

Emerald, to say the least, was not really experienced with the whole “house party” thing. Thus far, she was not impressed. Mostly it was like being in a crowded bar, except it was even louder and the people were somehow even dumber. ‘Mingling’ with a bunch of stupid Huntsman students was not exactly her idea of a good time but, well, Cinder's assignments weren't always fun.

If she wanted she could have pickpocketed half the people here by now. She wasn’t  _ going  _ to, but like, she couldn’t help noticing just how easy it would be. They all put their guards down  _ so  _ easily, none of them were even _armed,_ it didn’t even occur to them that their sense of safety could be shattered in a heartbeat...

“Wow,” said Mercury. “We sure are lucky to have you out here being  _ friendly  _ and  _ approachable  _ for us.”

Emerald shot him a poisonous look and snapped, “Shut up.”

Mercury, leaning against the wall wearing a smirk and mirrored shades he’d stolen from a coffee table that made him look like even more of a douche, gestured vaguely at the party. “What?” he asked,  _ overwhelmingly sincere. _ “I can’t tell you you’re doing a good job? Cinder definitely got her money’s worth making you the team PR rep, huh Em. You’re making real strides in the field of hiding next to the bathroom like a loser.”

“Shut  _ up, _ Mercury.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be  _ mingling, _ or whatever?”

Emerald chose to ignore the mocking airquotes in favor of emphatically holding up and pointing to her empty plastic cup. “I’m here. I’m smiling. I’m being nice. Why are  _ you  _ even here? I thought you weren’t allowed to talk to normal people anymore.”

He placed a hand over his heart. “Are you saying you don’t like spending time with me?”

“Yes.”

“Eh, that’s fair.” He gave a casual shrug and crossed his arms, grinning even wider as Emerald made a disgusted noise deep in her throat. “If you  _ really  _ insist on knowing, I’m technically your backup. I guess the boss doesn’t totally trust you on your own.”

Growling under her breath, Emerald turned away and determinedly ignored him.

“Hey there, cutie.” 

It took Emerald a few seconds to realize the casualty flirting tone was directed at  _ her. _

The girl leaning against the wall on her right twitched dark aviator glasses just far enough down her nose that Emerald couldn’t possibly miss the smirking once-over. “I just wanted to say, you look like you have  _ great  _ taste in tops. Nice shirt, too.”

“Wow,” said Mercury.

“Shut up,” hissed Emerald, elbowing him in the ribs.

Coco Adel—it had taken her a minute to place her competitor in the dim light and general chaos—quirked an eyebrow. “This guy bothering you?”

“He’s  _ always  _ bothering me,” muttered Emerald. “He’s fine, he’s my teammate. And, uh—I mean, I’m flattered? I wasn’t really looking for...You know.”

Coco grinned but didn’t move away just yet. “You sure? I know it’s a little late for coffee, but something hot to keep you up all night is what most people are here for.”

Emerald groaned, she couldn’t help it. “That was awful, Adel.”

“It was really bad,” agreed Mercury.

“It was actually hilarious,” insisted Coco with absolutely no hint of shame or censure, though for some reason she shot her red-haired teammate a dark glare across the room. “But hey, no pressure, kid. Just offering.”

She wasn’t wrong, was the annoying thing. It wasn’t like they put it on the flyers, but saying Vytal Festival contestants tended to sleep around was kind of like saying water tended to be a little bit damp. Dozens of eighteen- to twenty-one-year-olds, all of them the absolute peak of physical fitness, with their heads up their own asses, jacked up on adrenaline...and as a cherry on top, three-fourths of them were in an exciting foreign city, away from the prying eyes of their teachers.

Well.  _ Half _ of them, this year. Emerald suppressed a smirk at that. Ironwood was  _ so  _ easy to play; Cinder hadn’t even had to try.

“Maybe some other time,” she said through a cheerful smile, which was much more polite than  _ thanks! Get lost. _

“Your loss,” said Coco with a half-wave, pushing off from the wall. “Take care, kid! Maybe we’ll see you in the doubles round.”

“Haha,” said Emerald, mentally running the odds. CFVY  _ was  _ a Beacon superstar team, which meant they were on Cinder’s shortlist; it all depended on how and when she wanted to pull the initial Mercury gambit. “Maybe we will! Take care!”

Coco tossed off a casual salute and vanished into the crowd.

The pounding bass faded out for a few seconds, before the next song started.

“Emerald,” said Mercury. “What is wrong with you.”

“You’ve never needed help coming up with ideas  _ before,”  _ she told him sweetly.

Mercury gestured incredulously after Adel. “You turned that down flat? She was eating you up! She  _ could  _ have been eating you  _ o—” _

“Gross, don’t even finish that sentence.”

_ “Gross,” _ he mocked. “Don’t act like you’re not into girls, Em, you’ve literally been ogling Cinder since we  _ met—” _

“I’m not  _ ogling!” _ insisted Emerald, her voice ripping through about seven octaves and threatening to break out over the music. “That’s— _ ugh! _ You are the _ worst!” _

“You need to get _ laid, _ Emerald.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Whatever. Want some jungle juice?”

Emerald shuddered at the thought of whatever unholy concoction the “punch bowl” had become. “Hard pass.”

“Your life is miserable,” observed Mercury.

“We’re supposed to be  _ working.” _

“Actually,” said Merc cheerfully.  _ “You’re _ supposed to be working. Cheers.”

* * *

As parties went, this was...almost nice, thought Blake.

She hadn’t exactly had the kind of childhood that lent itself to the classic house-party experience. Still, she’d been to celebrations and impromptu blowing-off-steam events a lot like this—the cheap games, the shared understanding that the usual rules were on hold until morning, the...raging hormones and deeply questionable alcohol.

All of those experiences had been in isolated terrorist camps, but that wasn’t the point.

This was tamer, milder; and, with her Academy partner and so many Beacon friends close at hand if she needed them, the safest Blake had ever felt at a party like this. If the music was just a little less loud, she’d actually be able to  _ relax. _

In the cleared-out living room currently doing time as a makeshift dance floor, Yang whooped, audible over the bassline.

_ Bonzai, _ thought Blake, smiling faintly, and took a sip of her drink.

Yang had invited her out twice now, but Blake had begged off joining her on the dance floor. Maybe later—but if she was being honest with herself, she doubted it. This kind of dancing was...outside her area of expertise.  _ Yang _ could pull it off. She was—open, and expressive, confident, never acting like she had anything to prove to anyone. Even herself.

Blake just...wasn’t able to  _ let go _ that way, especially not surrounded by other people.

Watching Yang was enough.

She took a step to the side, instinctively, as a girl decked out in bright mint-green moved past her up the stairs. Blake was choosing not to read into her need to place herself directly at the foot of the stairs, or the way she reflexively twitched one bound ear toward the girl and did a quick threat assessment. Alone, not drunk, not a problem.

Her attention was caught when, instead of continuing upstairs, the girl flopped down on a step and raised a hand in a casual half-wave of greeting.

“Hey,” said Reese Chloris.

Blake smiled as she belatedly recognized her. “Hey.”

“That was a great match this morning.” Blake tensed slightly, scanning her face for any sign that she was out for revenge; but Reese’s body language was friendly and relaxed. It didn’t look like sarcasm; it looked like good sportsmanship. “You completely  _ nailed _ me with that decoy; that’s a  _ wicked  _ tactical Semblance you’ve got. Redirection, luring your enemies into a false sense of security, I love it.”

“...Thanks,” said Blake, who generally wouldn’t use words like that to describe her Semblance. “Glad to see you on your feet again.”

Reese waved her hand vaguely. “Ah, I’ve had worse falls on a halfpipe. Really  _ did  _ think I had you there, though. You going on to the doubles?”

Blake shook her head. “Yang and Weiss. I’ve never been much for the spotlight.”

“Can’t relate,” said Reese cheerfully. “I feel that, though; I wouldn’t have gone on either. If we’d kicked your asses instead of the other way around we were gonna send Bolin on to watch Arslan’s back. She’d have been  _ amazing  _ in the singles round.”

That scanned with what she observed in the fight, Blake thought. There was no real way of sugarcoating it: Arslan Altan was just several skill levels beyond her teammates. Which wasn’t inherently a problem, to be fair; the same was true of Team JNPR, who were planning to send Pyrrha and Nora on next. But there’d been a reason Blake had lured Reese away from Arslan in the arena. 

“Yang and Arslan would have been an incredible duel if the brackets had worked out that way,” Blake agreed.

Reese hummed in agreement, and then gave a small grin. “So. Down for a rematch? 1v1?”

Blake blinked at her. “Huh?”

“You know.” Reese jerked her head back up the stairs and tipped Blake another of the flirtatious winks that had  _ nearly  _ been distracting in the arena. “A ‘private match’. No weapons, no powers, see who comes out on top?”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ That—oh. Her immediate instinct was, in all honesty, to shadow-clone across the room, but the rational part of her knew that Reese was sweet and earnest and didn’t deserve  _ that  _ cold a shutdown, but—

But Reese took one look at her face and held up her hand in mock surrender. “Easy there Belladonna, I can take a rejection,” she said with a soft laugh in her voice. “No one here’s exactly starved for choice.”

Blake let out her breath slowly. “Right.” She hadn’t exactly been an aficionado of the Vytal Festival before—CCT signals didn’t reach Kuo Kuana and even when they were travelling she, well, had more important things to worry about—but she’d picked up on the unspoken parts of it quickly enough. Take a bunch of hypercompetitive young Huntress students from across the world, stick them together for a few weeks and have them show off to each other before they all went their separate ways again—

A lot of pairings had already slipped away upstairs, was the point. A few trios too, actually.

She looked across the room at Yang again.  _ Plenty  _ of people here must have eyes for her, but Blake knew that underneath her fun-loving, playful exterior, Yang wasn’t actually any more interested in casual sex than Blake was. Certainly not with artificially-lowered inhibitions. Yang was a gentleman like that.

Reese also took a look at Yang, then back to Blake, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Uh huh. You have fun, Blake.”

* * *

_ “Woooooo!” _

Pyrrha sighed and gave the house in front of them a skeptical look. She’d always avoided this kind of party culture; it rarely led to anything good, and she’d always been miserable and unhappy at the handful of tournament-adjacent parties she hadn’t been able to find a polite way to avoid.

Still! Tonight she was going to try. It was  _ much  _ more promising to be attending the party with Nora as a friend rather than alone.

“Could you knock?” she asked as they approached the front steps, holding up the large platter of brownies she’d brought along. Ren had begrudgingly allowed that using a store-bought mix was probably good enough for something like this, but he’d also declared he was unable to look at them. “My hands are a bit—”

Nora cackled and kicked in the door.

“Oh,  _ yes!” _ she declared immediately. “The party is  _ here!” _

Pyrrha, wondering which of the teams had rented this house for the night so that she could pay them back for the damage, did her best to subtly reattach the hinges with her Semblance.

“Now, don’t you worry, Pyrrha,” declared Nora, linking their arms aggressively. “I won’t leave your side for a second!”

Pyrrha had to smile. “I...appreciate that. Do you know where we can leave these…?”

“Ha! I can do better than that.” Nora cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled,  _ “Hey! We’ve got brownies down here!” _

Pyrrha had guessed that, as pretty much everyone appreciated a good brownie, they were a safe bet for a simple dessert to bring to a house party. She was...flattered, but deeply overwhelmed, by the sheer level of enthusiasm with which the others responded to Nora’s announcement. She also didn’t quite know why so many of them, as the brownies were snatched up within seconds, were expressing surprise at Pyrrha Nikos being ‘so chill’.

“Oh, nice!” Nadir Shiko grinned widely as he plucked the last brownie off Pyrrha’s platter. “You made special brownies, huh? Thanks!”

“Oh!” Pyrrha rubbed a hand awkwardly on the back of her neck. “Oh, they’re...just from a mix…”

Nadir had already left, which seemed strange when he’d seemed to want her recipe.

And Nora was smirking suspiciously.

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes. “Nora…”

“It’s nothing!” Nora exclaimed, grabbing her by the wrist. “I promised you a fun night! Come on, Pyrrha. We! Are! Getting! _ Turnt!” _

“We’re...what?” Pyrrha blinked rapidly as she was dragged into the fray. “Nora, what does that even...mean…”

Nora grabbed several inert glowsticks from a basket and cracked them over her knee, shattering them into a million tiny pieces.

* * *

Voice flat, grimly clutching her empty cup, Emerald said, “This isn’t gonna be over any time soon, is it.”

Mercury peered into his own cup, reaching in to poke it with a finger until he plucked out a candy cherry.

“Nope,” he responded. “Having fun being sober yet?”

She rolled her eyes.  _ “One _ of us has to be.”

“Cinder never actually  _ said  _ that,” Mercury pointed out.  _ “I’m  _ still waiting for that brownie to kick in, what’s your excuse?”

“Self-control and good life choices?” Emerald suggested with a bright smile.

“What was that?” Mercury lifted his empty cup to his ear like a hearing trumpet. “Did Emerald Sustrai just say she makes good life choices? Have I crossed into some crazy alternate reality where  _ Emerald Sustrai  _ makes good—ow!”

Emerald only released her twist on Mercury’s ear—to much dark grumbling from her ‘partner’—because someone had tapped her on the other arm.

_ “What,” _ she snapped, whirling on Gwen Darcy.

Gwen was, annoyingly, totally unfazed by the snarl. She just rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb over her shoulder, to a couch that was at most five feet behind her.

“My team leader’s been trying to get your attention for like fifteen minutes,” she said. “And Dew actually  _ texted  _ me to get me to come downstairs and grab you for them instead of getting up, so  _ please _ feel free to tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“They look like they’re doing that just fine already,” mumbled Mercury around a bite of brownie.

Emerald snorted. Gwen had vanished the moment her message was delivered and the only other conversational option was Mercury, so she walked up to the pair curled up together on the ratty couch and crossed her arms.

“What do you want?”

Nebula Violette, sitting in her partner’s lap and nuzzled into her hair, smiled and wiggled her fingers in greeting. Dew Gayle just smirked, which Emerald insisted to herself was annoying and didn’t make her spine tingle  _ at all. _

“It’s not obvious?” Dew said, eyes dragging slowly down Emerald’s body and even more slowly back up to her face. “Come here. I could use an extra set of hands to keep  _ this  _ one in line.”

Emerald’s eyebrow shot up.  _ Wow.  _ “Uh, I’m good, thanks.”

Dew gave a languid shrug, fingers tangling in the front of Nebula’s jacket and reversed their positions to shove her against the back of the sofa. “I have to do everything  _ myself  _ around here.”

“Since when do you need help?” asked Nebula, breathless. “You’ve never—had any trouble handling me before, are you losing your touch or—”

“Stop talking.”

“Yes’m.” 

_ Get a room?  _ Emerald stared at them, bewildered, for a moment before turning around to find Mercury giving her an even more incredulous look.

“Emmy,  _ what the hell is wrong with you?” _

“What?!” she demanded.

He gestured violently at the half of NDGO wrapped up in one another and apparently oblivious to the fact that they were in the middle of a crowded living room. “They wanted to put you in the middle of that! The entire  _ point _ of these stupid parties is so repressed nerds like you can finally  _ get some, _ Emerald!”

Emerald shoved him. “You know, if it’s so important to you, why don’t you leave me alone and go find someone with bad vision and low standards who  _ might  _ be desperate enough to sleep with you?”

Mercury rolled his eyes. “I  _ can’t,” _ he said, putting just enough emphasis that Emerald took the hint that she maybe shouldn’t press the point too loudly in public. “Cinder banned me from taking my clothes off,  _ remember?” _

Ah. Right. The lower third of Mercury’s body was as important a secret to Cinder’s plan as Emerald’s Semblance was. “That sounds like a  _ great  _ excuse for nobody being willing to sleep with you, Merc!”

_ “One _ of us needs to get laid tonight, Emerald! I’m literally begging you, here.”

“Pshh.” Emerald rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve got higher standards than these idiots.”

“Right, right, sure.” Mercury placed a hand on Emerald’s shoulder.  _ “She’s never gonna fuck you, Em.” _

If Emerald had a drink, she’d have thrown it in his face. As it was, her fist clenched around the empty cup hard enough that it crackled into useless shreds.

* * *

Personally, Nora thought tonight was going  _ great. _

Mostly that was because Pyrrha was having a good time, which was exactly what Nora had promised and, come hell or high water or plague of Grimm, was  _ going  _ to provide or  _ die trying. _

But she was fine not needing to resort to drastic measures.

Pyrrha had actually almost relaxed! She was no longer clinging to her side like a Pisaster Grimm and had even started chatting with people. Look at that! No need for Nora to break any ice (or bones) to get people to actually see Pyrrha as a person. Operation House Party was proceeding exactly to plan. She was  _ so  _ proud.

Side note, this jungle juice was good stuff. A little strong, but Nora had the metabolism of three adult women, so it was probably fine.

Nora turned around—she wasn’t going to leave Pyrrha, obviously, but Pyrrha was over by the snack table, so she’d be fine for a few minutes—and brightened.

“Oh  _ hey! _ Coco!”

Coco glanced up, flicking her auburn curl out of the way, and nodded to Nora in greeting. Gods, she was  _ so _ cool.

“Nora,” she said. Fox also nodded in Nora’s direction, and the redheaded girl with them—one of the students from Vacuo—looked up.

“Friend of yours?” she asked, running a finger down Coco’s bicep.

“Nora Valkyrie,” said Coco, casually. “Team JNPR. They won their team round this afternoon, and I heard from their team leader that they’re sending her on to the doubles round?”

Fox snorted.  _ “You _ talked to  _ Jaune?”  _

“I overheard,” Coco corrected, grinning. “I think he’s still scared of me.”

“Oh yeah, he totally is,” Nora said, grinning. “But yup, me and P are heading on next. We’re gonna  _ steamroll  _ Pyrrha to the top!”

Pyrrha had actually offered, very sincerely, to let one of the rest of them go on to the finals if they wanted. But well aside from the fact that any mention of the upcoming tournament had been putting a slightly-scary gleam in Pyrrha’s eye all year—she'd been training to win the Vytal Festival practically her whole life—the three of them all wanted to  _ win. _

Coco hummed, glancing across the room at Pyrrha. “I could take her.”

Fox laughed. Coco elbowed him hard in the ribs and curled her other arm tighter around the Vacuan girl—Octavia’s!—waist.

“I couldn’t,” Octavia admitted. “That gives me an idea though, Coco, if you’ve got a thing for redheads—”

_ “She’s not interested,”  _ Nora said flatly, channeling her best bone-smashing expression.

“Oof, alright, relax.” Octavia gave Nora a quick once-over and winked. “You’re a redhead too, though.”

Nora and Coco looked at each other and, after a brief moment, laughed in unison.

“That would be weird,” acknowledged Coco.

“Yeaaaah.” Nora sucked air between her teeth and looked around. Thankfully, Fox rescued her.

“Where _ is _ Ren?” he asked innocently. “And, you know, Jaune.”

Nora’s eyes widened slightly.

“Oh!” she said, glancing between the two coolest members of Team CFVY, the undisputed Beacon superstars. “Oh, you know…they’re having a boys’ night, off doing something  _ super  _ cool and not lame at all. Just the  _ guys,  _ type of thing.”

* * *

Jaune’s milk gurgled as he tried to sip the last dregs through his curly straw.

“Do you have any...eights?” he asked, hopeful.

Ruby flopped over on her back, arms spread, and wailed, _ “Whyyyyy? _ Did I enter this world only to  _ suffer.” _ She gave a long sigh and flung an eight of diamonds in Jaune’s direction. “Take it.  _ It’s all I have left.” _

Ren patted her shoulder and got up to take the next round of cookies out of the oven.

* * *

“Toooootally hardcore,” Nora insisted. “What about Velvet and Yatsu?”

Velvet clearly wasn’t here, because otherwise Coco would  _ not  _ have Octavia Ember draped on her arm. Nora knew long-running slow-cooker romantic tension when she saw it, okay. So either Velvet wasn’t here, or...someone needed to go make sure Velvet was okay. Probably Pyrrha.

Fox chuckled softly. “Not exactly their scene.”

“They stayed in to have a movie night,” said Coco, who already seemed to be losing interest in the conversation as Octavia tugged lightly on her bandolier. Coco hummed. “Which means I don’t have anywhere to be until tomorrow morning...”

Octavia smirked and gave a sharp tug on Coco’s collar.

“Quit while you’re ahead,” she advised, plucked Coco’s sunglasses off her nose, and wandered off toward the stairs.

“I hate you,” Fox said in a friendly voice.

Coco clapped him on the shoulder and tossed a casual faux-salute at Nora. “Duty calls.”

As Coco left them, her place was almost immediately filled by Arslan Altan, who did  _ not  _ look like she was enjoying the party at all. She probably hadn’t gotten any of Pyrrha’s brownies.

Arslan pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “Please. Tell me that one of you has seen Nadir.”

“Nope,” said Fox, completely deadpan. “I don’t know where he is, either.”

Arslan took a deep breath and let it out.

“Thank you, regardless,” she said. “I trust my team, but left to their own devices after a first-round elimination, without any need to be functional or able to perform as Huntsmen for the remainder of the tournament, they are emphatically guaranteed to set fire to this house.”

Nora thought about it. “Umm...he was around when me and Pyrrha showed up, but that was like an hour ago. He took one of Pyrrha’s brownies, but I haven’t seen him since.”

Arslan very slowly lowered her hand, and even more slowly turned to look at Nora.

“What,” she asked finally, voice completely calm and friendly to a degree that was a little alarming. “Special ingredients... _ exactly _ ...are in the brownies.”

Nora held up her hands. “Love?” Arslan’s expression didn’t change, and Nora sighed. “No, really! I didn’t have the heart to explain, all right? I mean, look at her—”

She’d gestured across the room to Pyrrha at the snack table, expecting to find the picture of angelic innocence, and in doing so had noticed Pyrrha looking hesitantly at the bottom of a plastic cup—

Oh  _ shit! _ Without hesitation Nora sprinted across the room, bodily hurled several people out of her way, and shouted  _ “PYRRHA NO THAT’S NOT FRUIT PUNCH”  _ before diving to slap the cup out of Pyrrha’s hand.

* * *

The Vytal Festival was NOT disappointing Yang in the slightest.

She filled up her cup and chugged down half of it—it was  _ water, _ don’t look at her like that, she’d worked up a sweat dancing and was being careful to pace herself and stay hydrated.

When she came up for air, she turned to grin at her dance partner—she wasn’t sure where the girl was from, probably Mistral if she had to guess. It seemed like the kind of place that would give rise to someone who wore that many glowing lanyards at once. “You know, you’ve got some nice moves.”

The girl laughed, elbowing Yang. “I could say the same thing about you! We should  _ totally  _ get out of here.”

Yang blinked and rolled her shoulders. “You think? I thought this was pretty much the only real party going down tonight. I know some good clubs in Vale, but they won’t be Vytal Festival students. Isn’t that the point?”

The girl giggled, tail twitching; Yang wasn’t sure if she was a cat or primate faunus and obviously wasn’t going to ask. (Her accessories were very cat-themed, but she wasn't about to make an ass of herself and assume.) “No,  _ silly. _ We should  _ get out of here,  _ you know? We don’t have to go far, we can totally kick someone out of an upstairs room or something! Unless you’re into that? I mean the NDGO girls  _ obviously  _ are—”

“Oh! Uh.” Yang suddenly felt wildly overheated again and tried to chug the rest of her water. It didn’t help. Actually it just made her choke, and she coughed for several seconds, trying to buy time as she tugged at the collar of her shirt. Team BRNZ's sniper bumped against her shoulder from behind, wide-eyed as NDGO's knife girl dragged her along toward a private corner.  _ “Ha. _ Right, yeah! I mean! I don’t have any reason to say no, right? Do I? Um! Haha. So, I was just...kind of…”

“Is everything all right?”

Yang breathed a pathetic prayer of thanks to whatever gods had sent Blake back her way. She had no idea where her partner had come from, it was like she’d stepped out of the literal shadows to casually rest her chin on Yang’s shoulder, but she sure as heck wasn’t complaining.

“Everything’s fine!” she yelped.

“Good.” Blake smiled, ignoring the other girl completely, and took Yang by the wrist. “Come on. We’re playing beer pong against Fox and Reese Chloris, I need a second.”

_ “Oh would you look at that I actually have somewhere else to be!” _ Yang exclaimed in abject relief. “Have a nice night! Uh, thanks! For the dance!”

The girl with all the glowing accessories waved cheerfully after them; Blake shot her a pointed look, although Yang wasn’t  _ entirely  _ certain what the point was meant to be, and the girl snorted and ducked back onto the dance floor.

“Heh,” said Yang. “Thanks for the save.”

Blake smirked up at her, eyes twinkling. “Any time.”

“My hero,” grinned Yang, and pounded her fist into her palm. “Let’s teach Fox a lesson.”

* * *

Pyrrha was having fun!

It had been a close call earlier—she was eternally grateful to Nora for intercepting her, as the very idea of consuming alcohol or any other mind-altering substance made Pyrrha shudder. She’d settled on a can of soda that she’d opened herself and which had never been out of her line of sight, and was thoroughly happy with that decision.

“I do think I know what you mean,” said Arslan.

Pyrrha drew her feet up onto the couch, having kicked her shoes off a few minutes ago. Arslan Altan had been sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands when Pyrrha crossed the room to see whether she needed help; and within a few seconds of talking to one another they had realized they had a great deal in common.

Pyrrha looked over to where Nora was amusing a growing crowd of fans by crushing increasingly creative objects between her thighs, and smiled sadly.

“It’s difficult,” she decided, toying with her soda. “It feels arrogant to say…”

“I would have to be very foolish to find you arrogant,” Arslan assured her. “There will always be some of us who are better at pure combat than others.  _ We _ aren’t the ones acting as if that makes us any more important than the rest of our team.”

Pyrrha smiled at her. “So many people believe that...my team owes their success solely to me. Or that I would somehow be better off without less skilled fighters to, well, slow me down. It can be very difficult to explain why they’re  _ wrong.” _

It was also wrong to even think her teammates weren't skilled at combat. Nora was a powerhouse, and Ren kept a low profile, and Jaune was...learning!

“I know,” Arslan sighed. “Everyone’s always telling me I  _ deserve a better team,  _ which is just...incredibly ignorant. To say nothing of the fact that it  _ hurts.  _ A compliment that puts my friends down is no compliment at all. I don’t stand for it.”

“I don’t either,” Pyrrha said. She took a sip of her soda. “No one ever says it to my face, but I  _ know  _ there’s people who think I would be a better leader for Team JNPR. Which is just…”

“Leadership is a heavy burden,” Arslan said gravely. “Trust me.”

Behind her, Nebula Violette—who was straddling her teammate’s hips and did not seem overly crushed beneath the burden of responsibility—gave a low groan. Pyrrha and Arslan ignored them both. 

“And it’s an entirely different skillset from combat ability!” Pyrrha exclaimed. “I was  _ so  _ worried during initiation that Professor Ozpin would just put me in charge by default. Everyone always assumes I can handle anything.” She shuddered. “I would be a  _ horrible  _ team leader. Jaune is amazing.”

Arslan smiled. “I think he would be a poor leader for my team, in the same way I would be a poor leader for yours. That’s the point, isn’t it? Our connections make us better. As Huntresses, but also as people.”

Pyrrha felt relief wash over her. “There is  _ more  _ to being a Huntress than fighting well alone in an arena.”

“The best of us need even more support,” Arslan agreed, reaching behind her head without looking back and gently pushing Nebula and Dew Gayle away from her as their gasping grew more desperate. They didn’t seem to notice. “My fighting style very nearly requires me to  _ tie myself _ to my enemies. Alone, I would be good enough to win my battles—until I wasn’t.”

“And I only know how to direct myself,” Pyrrha said. “I’m used to fighting on my own. But I’d have no idea how to coordinate Nora, or Ren, or Jaune, so that we all complimented each other.  _ Jaune  _ is the one who can do that, almost without thinking about it.”

“You respect him greatly.”

Pyrrha gave a warm smile. “Yeah…” she sighed.

A twitch of a smirk tugged at Arslan’s mouth, and she took a sip of her drink to hide it. “Maybe he should have drilled you all on those team attacks more thoroughly, though.”

Pyrrha set her drink between her knees and buried her face in her hands. “You were watching that?”

“Oh, sweetheart. We were all watching that.”

Pyrrha laughed nervously, and Arslan gave her a sympathetic pat on that back.

“It’s okay,” Arslan said. “At least you won. I’m still  _ kicking _ myself for letting Yang catch me and the boys in a row like that.”

Now that she’d been mentioned, Pyrrha frowned and looked around the room for Yang. She’d been involved in some kind of...party game? Involving ping-pong balls and irresponsible drinking, last time she’d checked.

Actually, it looked as if Yang had tapped out of the...beer pong...tournament. Arslan’s teammate Reese had been the first to withdraw, roughly three seconds after her team leader walked into the room and made eye contact; but Yang simply appeared to have recognized her limits and was resting against the back of Blake’s chair, arms crossed casually across the chair back as Blake drank Fox Alistair under the table with frankly alarming ease.

“Sometimes it happens like that,” Pyrrha said, returning Arslan’s back pat. “I think you would have been terrific in the finals, though. It’s a shame there’s no chance of us facing each other now.”

Arslan smiled. “We could always have a private session sometime.”

There was a pause. Dew let out a very distinctive moan into Nebula’s mouth.

“...Allow me to rephrase that,” Arslan clarified. “I mean an  _ actual  _ sparring match.”

“Oh good,” Pyrrha said, relaxing. “I’m sure we can squeeze it in before you go home. And we should keep in contact after the festival, too!”

“You live in Argus, don’t you? That’s just a quick train ride or airship hop from Mistral. We could always meet up sometime when school’s out of session. I would be happy to buy you a coffee.”

Pyrrha smiled, and across the room Yang let out a whoop and high-fived Blake as Fox finally dropped his head to the table. “That sounds lovely.”

* * *

Cinder was right. Beacon did not deserve to exist. Emerald was losing her mind.

Mercury also did not deserve to exist.

The sole, entire reason she hadn’t shoved him off an upstairs balcony was that he was important to Cinder’s plans. That, and there’d been some  _ horrible  _ noises coming from the upstairs balcony.  _ Eugh. _

She’d managed to give her “backup” the slip for now, but who knew how long this peace would last, honestly—oh, no.

Spotting steel-grey hair across the room, Emerald groaned under her breath and did an about-face. Any second now he would start talking to her again—she grabbed the nearest door handle, intending to duck into the bathroom to escape him for a few more precious minutes.

With a high-pitched yelp that overlapped a wild laugh, Neon Katt and...the idiot skater girl from ABRN, whatever her name was, toppled out of the linen closet, half-dressed and tangled in each other.

Skater dork—uh, Reese, Emerald was pretty sure—squeaked and tried to drag her stupid hoodie down to cover what the panties tangled around her knees weren't. Neon, sprawled on the ground and very much not wearing a shirt, didn’t bother.

“Hey gorgeous!” she called from the ground, shamelessly linking her fingers behind her head. After a moment, she jackknifed to her feet and hopped back into the closet “Wanna join us? We can totally squeeze one more in there if we try hard and believe in ourselves.”

Reese whispered, _ “Please don’t tell Arslan.” _

Emerald spared a moment to wish she could trade her Semblance for one that would make the ground open up and swallow her, then firmly closed the door on them.

“Oh hey,” said Mercury, sauntering up behind her. “You know, Em, I’m starting to think those were just normal brownies...”

* * *

“Nora,” Pyrrha asked, “are you still with me?”

_ “Hahaaaaaaa,”  _ answered the deadweight slung over Pyrrha’s shoulders.  _ “Partyyyyyy…” _

Pyrrha took that as a yes. She shifted her grip on Nora and hummed contentedly. It was a lovely autumn night out, which made for a very pleasant walk back to the dorm. Or carry, in Nora’s case.

“You’ll be fine in the morning, won’t you Nora?”

Nora hiccuped. “Of course I will! I’m  _ me!” _

Pyrrha stifled a giggle. “You’d  _ better.  _ I’m going to need you when the doubles start.”

_ “We’re gonna wreck ‘em!”  _ Nora yelled, suddenly very loud in classic Nora Valkyrie fashion. Nearby, there was a low groan.

“You did this to yourself, Bolin,” Arslan said, not unkindly.

“S’rry boss,” he mumbled. She tapped his shoulder to get him pointed back in the right direction. He tried to wander off the sidewalk and into the street, but immediately hit the end of one of Arslan’s spare dagger ribbons, which she had tied around his and Nadir’s chests like the leash harnesses sold in Vale for use on toddlers.

“You’ll be fine,” she informed them both. “Come on, Reese.”

Reese Chloris, seated sidesaddle on her hoverboard, made a pathetic attempt to drag herself forward. Arslan shared a look with Pyrrha before sighing and reaching down to grip the hood of her sweatshirt.

“I love you, Arslan,” Reese said plaintively as she was pulled along, weightless, like a duck-shaped toy on wheels Pyrrha remembered from her own baby pictures.

“You know,” Nora started in a very philosophical tone, “you have  _ really  _ nice arms.”

“...Thank you, Nora. You too.”

“Really! You do! It’s nice. You’re nice. And  _ tall.  _ How are you  _ so tall?” _

Pyrrha was not bothering to keep a grin off her face now. “Years of practice,” she informed her matter-of-factly.

“You’re really good at it,” Nora continued. “Good. Good Pyrrha. Strong. Pretty.”

Nora hitting on her was a rather odd and unexpected experience, Pyrrha had to say. She hoped Nora wouldn’t be embarrassed by it in the morning. If she remembered. She pat her gently on the back of her neck. “Yes, Nora. Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Hey Pyrrha!” Yang called out from nearby, grinning with her arm around Blake’s shoulder. “Hope you had fun!”

“I think Nora had a little too much fun,” Blake commented drily.

_ “I’m fine!”  _ Nora said indignantly, making a failed attempt to swat at Blake from Pyrrha's back.

“She’ll  _ be  _ fine,” Pyrrha corrected gently. “And I did, thank you! It was...nice.”

“Proud of you,” Yang teased. Her face was definitely flushed—so was Blake’s—but neither of them were drunk, just a little buzzed. “You too,  _ Blaaaaake.” _

Blake rolled her eyes fondly and swatted at Yang’s arm. “I’m more experienced than you think, Yang.”

“Ooh. Vague, intriguing statement. Love it when you do that.”

“I love Pyrrha’s arrrrms,” Nora interjected. Pyrrha shook her head and hoisted Nora higher on her shoulders.

“I could _ swear _ you did not have this much to drink,” Arslan told Reese in the background.

“Not drunk,” Reese mumbled, exhausted and boneless, leaning against her team leader. “Did you know they make light-up dildos?”

“Right,” said Arslan. “Thank you. That is more information than I ever want again.”

Pyrrha shifted Nora slightly so that she could raise a hand to Arslan in farewell. “I hope to see you again soon!”

Arslan looked back from wrangling her team and smiled. “We’re here until the end of the Festival,” she promised. “I am certain our paths will cross again.”

Yang gave a short whistle, one arm more firmly around Blake’s waist than Pyrrha suspected either of them would be bold enough for were their inhibitions slightly more...present.

“Great seeing you guys!” she called—not to Team ABRN, Pyrrha realized, but to Emerald and Mercury down the street. “Get home safe!”

Emerald raised a distant arm to wave back, and called faintly,  _ “Yeah, you too!” _

Emerald was nice, Pyrrha thought. Mercury...wasn’t. But she’d love to get to know Emerald better in the future, too.

She looked up at the sky and sighed contentedly. Not a cloud out, and the moon was as beautiful as always. It was...perfect. “The Vytal Festival really is lovely,” she said to Nora. “So many wonderful new friendships.”

_ “Arrrrrrrrms,”  _ Nora agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of those ideas we've had knocking around for like...four years. We hope you enjoyed yourself better than Emerald did. Don't think about the imminent death and destruction. Don't think about it. Just enjoy the night. It'll be fine.


End file.
